


Present

by Ailette



Series: Compromising [4]
Category: Sexy Zone
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Imported, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2018-06-05 06:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6692971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailette/pseuds/Ailette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’ve done ‘something else’ a few times now instead after getting this far and it’s begun to feel like a tease when he could have so much more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Present

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted at http://ailette.livejournal.com/78961.html)  
> A/N: It's the 7th in Japan, meaning it's Fuma's birthday! ♥ I'm glad this fic got done on time, it turned out so much longer than it was supposed to.  
> A/N2: Follows Compromise, Morning After and Opportunities and is very likely the last part. Which makes it pretty obvious what's going to happen...

It starts innocently enough, for once. Kento is in the middle of window-shopping when his mobile rings. He picks up without looking, too transfixed on a white shirt with little black rhinestone skulls all over it and wondering whether to buy it to pay attention to the caller ID. Until he recognizes Fuma’s lazy drawl asking if he’s still in the city and wants to meet up. He wonders for a second if Fuma actually believes he would say no to a shopping date and then enthusiastically tells him where he is, despite the fact that he mailed Fuma his whereabouts not ten minutes ago - which must be the reason he called in the first place. He doesn’t even wait for Fuma to hang up before he’s already dashing for the store’s exit.  
  
It _may_ have been a while since Fuma asked him to meet up in private. Or, well, since Fuma had any sort of free time to spend with him whatsoever. Kento loves his work, but if it means the most private encounters he could steal with his boyfriend were behind costume racks in between shows… Well.  
  
And even though it turns out that Fuma apparently mostly wants to use him as a drone for his own shopping plans, the easy smile that plays over Fuma’s lips as they chat excitedly over clothes and work and that new group Kento has discovered and who he thinks Fuma would like as they stroll from store to store is enough to make him more than happy to have come. The intense looks Fuma keeps shooting him whenever he thinks Kento’s attention is occupied by something else and the soft brushes of fingers over his arm or shoulder when Fuma decides that he’s too slow only make it better.  
  
Fuma stops and uses his hold on Kento’s wrist to drag him over to the next aisle and Kento grins. They joke about picking out clothes for each other sometimes and Kento knows he finds himself thinking that pair of black jeans or that stole would look great on Fuma, but when Fuma ends up picking up the very same t-shirt he’d been pondering over earlier, it’s almost too much for him not to tease him about it.  
  
“Like it?” he asks innocently.  
  
Fuma makes a noncommittal sound as he unfolds the shirt, eyeing it critically for a moment before turning and holding it against Kento’s chest, nodding to himself. “This would suit you.”  
  
Kent bursts into laughter, drawing a few curious looks from the customers around them and making Fuma roll his eyes. He seems a little impatient somehow.  
“Glad it amuses you that much. Now go, the changing rooms are over there.”  
  
A hand settles on the small of his back and Kento willingly lets himself be pushed through half the store and into one of the changing rooms. It isn’t until the lock slides into place and the hand is still there that he realizes Fuma has followed him straight in.  
  
“What are you doing?” he asks curiously when Fuma drops their bags to the floor and turns him around so they’re face to face.  
  
Instead of answering, Fuma smirks and leans in to kiss him, long and deep. His hands wander downwards, comfortably slipping into the back pockets of Kento’s jeans like they belong there.  
  
“Saying hello.”  
  
Kento chuckles as he’s pulled closer and grabs the material of Fuma’s leather jacket to pull him down to the right height to press their lips together again.  
“I’m glad you waited until we’re behind closed doors at least, but-“  
  
“I don’t like that ‘but’.”  
  
Kento rolls his eyes and actually dodges when Fuma tries to steal another kiss, resulting in Fuma puffing out his cheeks in mock-indignation.  
“ _But_ , we’re still in a store full of people and were seen getting in here together. Not exactly private.”  
  
“I don’t care, I just want to touch you already,” Fuma whines and Kento’s cheeks heat up as he feels Fuma’s finger beginning to subtly massage his backside. “It’s torture just walking next to you and not being allowed to just pull you over and kiss you, or hug you, or strip that silly shirt off you that you tried on before-”  
  
Kento’s blush is quickly spreading all the way to his ears, but it’s not like he doesn’t understand exactly how Fuma is feeling. Life had gone from hectic to insane and stayed that way for a while and he’d missed this.  
  
“I also missed this,” he admits out loud, eyes cast down and fixing on the pendant of Fuma’s necklace. “But we should be careful. We can just go somewhere more private, right?”  
  
He’s aware like what kind of invitation that sounds like even before Fuma’s expression goes from pouting to almost hungry, eyes turning almost black when they meet his, but that reaction makes it obvious that Fuma does, too.  
  
“If we do, just this is probably not going to be enough anymore,” Fuma says quietly. He makes it sound like a warning, but Kento doesn’t need that. They’ve barely had the chance to touch each other and he’s tired of sneaking into too small bathroom cubicles between shows together just to take the edge off.  He wants more.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Fuma’s eyes widen when Kento agrees and leans up to press their lips together quickly to hide his embarrassment.  
  
“Okay,” he repeats after, just in case.  
  
  
  
As it turns out, when Fuma said private, he meant home. His family had apparently gone out (and if Kento reads between the lines, it sounds an awful lot like Fuma had basically kicked them out on a hunch that something like this would happen before he went to meet Kento).  The way over isn’t all that long, but when they sit squished next to each other on the train and Fuma’s hand suddenly finds its way to Kento’s thigh and, under the cover of several shopping bags, slides dangerously higher, it feels endless.  
  
Fuma’s hands keep wandering more and more the closer they get and the fewer people are around once they get into the smaller streets and by the time they finally get into the house, Kento’s patience has been worn out completely. He pushes the door shut with his hip and then grabs Fuma by the collar of his jacket, pulling him into a possessive kiss that makes the younger boy stumble and collide with the wall as he drops the bags.  
  
He doesn’t even protest, just keeps on kissing Kento while stripping him out of his coat. Getting out of their shoes takes longer than it should, but they keep getting distracted by each other until Fuma tries to get out of his jacket without looking and eventually has to give up on molesting Kento’s throat for a second to get the task done with an annoyed groan.  
  
“Is your room still up the stairs?” Kento asks, a little breathless as his eyes follow Fuma’s every move, absently flipping his hair out of his face when he catches sight of himself in a mirror.  
  
“Yeah,” Fuma breathes and finally moves out of the entrance to pull Kento along behind him and up the stairs. It feels like hard work not to touch any more than necessary for even just those few meters, but Kento definitely feels safer once they make it behind Fuma’s bedroom door. Family out or not, he doesn’t want their first time to happen in the doorway between shoes and jackets.  
  
“Get undressed,” Fuma whispers, right into his ear, as he passes him.  
  
It takes Kento a moment to do just that, too busy staring when Fuma pulls his shirt over his head while walking towards his bed. The way his shoulder muscles work seems entirely too fascinating and Kento swallows and forces himself to look away, or else he’s never going to get out of his own clothes.  
  
When he dares to look up again, having managed to strip off his shirt, jeans and socks, Fuma is bent over the bed, rummaging through his night-stand’s drawer. He doesn’t need to check what he’s looking for; they bought the lube and condoms together when they were in Las Vegas. A country half-way around the world allowing them the privacy to just walk into a store and get what they would eventually need.  
  
He grins when Fuma crawls back, easily stretching out on his bed (in a pose that looks like it’s right out of a porn mag) in his entirety as he catches Kento’s gaze. He doesn’t seem to mind in the least that he’s completely naked and Kento’s staring at every little bit of exposed skin. Or the fact that Kento has yet to get out of his boxers. Instead, he wiggles his fingers for Kento to come closer, his expression saying that he knows exactly what effect he’s having on him and that it’s just how he wants it.  
  
Kento shakes his head as he steps forward, remembering Fuma’s words about not wanting to appear nervous in front of him and it makes him smile all over again. It really does make it easier when Fuma seems confident and sure in what he’s doing, effortlessly taking the lead where Kento might hesitate otherwise.  
  
“Isn’t that uncomfortable already?” Fuma asks and nods to where Kento’s underwear is doing nothing to hide his arousal as he’s kneeling down on the mattress.  
“Could ask you the same thing,” Kento replies cockily and lets his hand slide down Fuma’s abs, coming to rest just above curled hair.  
  
Fuma’s eyes narrow and he surges forward to grab Kento by the neck, pulling him down into another heated kiss. Kento seems to get the message, climbing over him and letting his hand finally wander lower, right to where Fuma wants it. The feeling of Fuma’s erection sliding between his fingers isn’t new anymore, but that doesn’t make it any less amazing when he knows they won’t stop there today. Fuma bucks his hips up into Kento’s touch automatically as his lips wander from Kento’s mouth to his throat. The movements of Kento’s hand slow down as he does, big brown eyes fluttering shut when he gently sucks on the juncture between neck and shoulder.  
When he’s sure that Kento’s sufficiently distracted, he pushes the boxers down Kento’s slim hips and lets his hands rest right there, tracing his thumb over where hip bones are protruding. Kento shivers at the touch, visibly forcing himself to turn and quickly kick the last remnant of his clothing off the bed.  
  
There’s nothing left between them now and Fuma makes the best of it by pulling Kento’s body down against his own and grinding his hips upwards. Kento’s hands fly out to catch himself against the mattress, and he breathes heavily against Fuma’s lips.  
  
“This was a good idea,” he admits.  
  
Fuma smirks. “And nothing’s stopping us this time.”  
  
The smirk falters when he sees Kento quickly glancing to the side, hesitant, and he frees one hand to brush it along Kento’s cheek, getting his attention back in an instant.  
  
“Unless you want us to stop. Just say-”  
  
Kento scowls down at his boyfriend. “No way,” he says firmly. “You got me all worked up, there’s no way we’re leaving it like this.”  
  
Red is dusting his cheeks again, but he means every word. The longer he was away from Fuma, the more he started to crave. First just for more time, more closeness, more kissing… but it eventually comes back to where they are right now. He wants to be with Fuma completely. He’s wanted to for a while now, well, they _both_ have, but now it feels like he can no longer wait.  
  
He feels selfish and maybe greedy for a moment, but then he catches the edges of Fuma’s returning smirk and has about a second to wonder before Fuma flips them over, his hands on Kento’s shoulders as he presses him into the bed.  
  
“Then let’s get on with it.”  
  
He crawls backwards down Kento’s body until he’s sitting between his legs, grinning like a predator In front of his pray.  
  
Kento swallows hard, feeling hyper aware of every movement as Fuma starts to gently nudge his legs wider apart. He feels like he’s on display and as much as he loves holding Fuma’s attention, it’s difficult not to clam up and flee with the way Fuma is looking at him right now. The younger boy seems to sense his nerves, too, because he leans forward again to brush a gentle kiss against Kento’s lips as he asks,  
  
“Still okay? We can just do… something else.”  
  
Kento nods. They’ve done ‘something else’ a few times now instead after getting this far and it’s begun to feel like a tease when he could have so much more.  
  
“Just… I’ll have to get used to it,” he admits with a shy smile that makes Fuma lean in for another kiss. At this point, he decides being completely honest is better than acting brave. He’s long since noticed that it’s much easier to act sexy and confident on stage in front of thousands of screaming people than it is to do the same with just this one person as an audience. But still, he hates feeling so caught up between aching for more of Fuma and nerves at letting the last barrier fall between them.  
  
“We’ll work on that,” Fuma whispers and grins when Kento finally cracks a smile again. If Kento gets reassured by him taking the lead, he gets his confidence from Kento’s smiles. “I think it’s easier to do this from behind, but I want to see you while we’re doing it.”  
  
Kento feels his cheeks heat up rapidly and groans. “Can you just… not talk about what we’re doing while we’re doing it?”  
  
He’s not sure which startles him more, the chuckle or Fuma’s hand slowly sliding down his inner thigh. On second thought, he knows exactly which startled him more – and it’s not just because Fuma’s long fingers are suddenly slick and a little cold against his skin, having lubed them up without Kento noticing.  
  
“Does that mean I can’t tell you what I want to do with you, now that I have you naked and all laid out right in front of me?”  
  
The hand is massaging his ass in an imitation of what he did earlier, only with no layers of clothes in between and really, the only thing that’s making all of this worse (or better) is the way Fuma’s gaze shifts from his boyfriend’s face to where his hand is at work.  
  
“Absolutely not!”  
  
Another chuckle and Kento feebly tries to swat at Fuma, but he’s just barely out of Kento’s reach.  
  
“But, you see, I watched this video-”  
  
“If you’re going to talk about porn you’ve watched, I swear I’m going to – _ah_!”  
  
Kento’s head falls back onto the pillows and he closes his eyes against the feeling of a finger sliding into him. He’s more surprised than anything, the feeling not uncomfortable at all. He can feel Fuma moving above him. One hand staying exactly where it is and the other reaching out to comb through his hair. He opens one eye to peek and Fuma smiles at him almost sheepishly.  
  
“I thought you’d get more nervous if I announced every step,” he says, apologetically. “Bad idea?”  
  
He sounds worried, so Kento turns his head to lean into the caress and smiles. “No,” he takes a deep breath when Fuma’s finger twists and he can feel the second one circling his entrance carefully. When Fuma doesn’t seem reassured by that, he grinds his hips down against the pressure of long fingers. The motion makes the other digit slip into him and Kento moans softly at the feeling.  
  
When he fully opens his eyes again, the sight of Fuma’s pupils, blown and much darker than he remembers them to be, greets him. He grins even as he rotates his hips a little; clearly pleased that he managed to catch the younger boy off-guard.  
  
“I may have practiced this a little after I heard about your… ‘reading up’,” he admits.  
  
Fuma audibly sucks in a breath and suddenly he leans forward, crushing his lips to Kento’s and swallowing the moan that tries to escape the other’s mouth when he scissors his fingers a second later. His free hand is completely caught in Kento’s hair now, alternately tugging and stroking in the same way his tongue moves back and forth against Kento’s.  
  
His breath is hot against Kento’s lips when he pulls back and the brown of his eyes has been swallowed up almost completely by his dark dilated pupils. That, combined with Fuma’s fingers probing inside of him, makes Kento moan out loud this time. As if determined to steal away all the sounds Kento makes and keep them to himself completely, Fuma kisses him again. And again and again until they’re both completely out of breath and Kento isn’t even sure at what point Fuma worked a third finger into him.  
  
“That,” Fuma whispers in a voice so deep that it gives Kento goose bumps, “is really hot.”  
  
He would laugh if he had any air left to spare, but instead just arches upwards, leaning his forehead against Fuma’s shoulder and breathing in his scent.  
  
“ _Ah_!”  
  
Fuma’s fingers graze something inside him and he finds his arms moving completely off of the bed as well, sliding around Fuma’s neck as he tries to push down into Fuma’s hand and up towards the warmth of Fuma’s body all at once.  
  
Fuma’s free arm slides around his middle, supporting him when he starts to shake from the strain of the position. “Didn’t practice this part?”  
  
His fingers stroke that exact spot again, just the tips, but it’s enough to make Kento’s whole body jerk at the feeling. He tries to say something, but all that comes out is incoherent noise and he can only clutch at Fuma when he does it again.  
  
“Stop – I can’t – I-”  
  
The movement stops immediately and Kento can feel Fuma turning his head to look at him, probably worried.  
  
“Do you-”  
  
“Just a – moment,” Kento pants and tries to at least get his breath back. “If you – don’t stop – this is – over – in a second.”  
  
“Oh,” Fuma makes and to Kento’s complete and utter dismay, he starts to pull away. Kento automatically tightens his hold on him, no intention of letting him move. But then there’s a warm, if slightly breathless, chuckle in his ear and the hand on his back wanders upwards until it’s buried itself back into Kento’s hair.  
  
“I can’t reach the condoms like this,” Fuma says and Kento flushes up to the very tips of his ears. Considering what they’re doing, the position they’re in, _where Fuma’s fingers currently are_ , the word ‘condom’ should not make his face burn like this – but then, logic doesn’t have any place here at the moment.  
  
Reluctantly, he loosens his hold and then feels his breath hitch when Fuma’s fingers pull out of him, leaving a strange sensation in their wake while Fuma presses a quick kiss to the corner of his lips as he bends over to take one of the aforementioned condoms from the nightstand.  
  
He rips the foil package easily, dropping it off to the side and taking the condom between his fingers, when suddenly, Kento’s fingers close over his and steal it away. Fuma looks up, surprised, and the sight of Kento, cheeks still pink and lips slightly parted, smiling at him, almost undoes him.  
  
“Let me,” Kento says sweetly and Fuma can’t do more than nod dumbly; watching as Kento’s deft fingers efficiently roll down the plastic over his straining length. He sucks in a breath at the feeling, grabbing at Kento’s wrist when he lingers a little too long.  
  
Kento jumps and Fuma forces himself to calm down, relaxing his grip. “About this ending too soon,” he mutters and understanding dawns in wide brown eyes immediately.  
  
“Glad it’s not just me,” Kento whispers and presses a chaste kiss against Fuma’s lips.  
  
“You have no idea,” Fuma grumbles and on a whim, pulls Kento fully into his lap. “Wanna try it like this?”  
  
Kento looks down between them wordlessly, then wraps his arms back around Fuma’s shoulders with a smile and a nod. He doesn’t feel as exposed like this as he did when he was lying on the bed. Somehow it’s easier to spread his legs for Fuma’s probing fingers when he’s eye-to-eye with him, can watch every little furrowing of Fuma’s brow and the way his eyes snap up from what he’s doing to make sure Kento’s alright and then down again to concentrate.  
  
Kento can feel the hot length rubbing against his backside and when a hand taps his thigh lightly, he scrambles to rise to his knees and allow Fuma to place the head of his erection against his entrance.  
  
Their gazes meet again and Fuma whispers, “Ready?”  
  
Kento inhales deeply, closing his eyes for a second to calm himself, to allow himself to just feel Fuma all around him, surrounding him, before he nods, once. But Fuma waits until his eyes open, watching him closely as he begins to push against the tight ring of muscle.  
  
A sharp pain shoots up Kento’s spine when the head pushes in and his fingers claw into Fuma’s back, making Fuma halt immediately, barely in. It’s an obvious strain for him, but he holds Kento’s gaze and waits, biting his lower lip. Kento exhales stutteringly, taking the moment his body needs to adjust and understand that, yes, Fuma is going to feel very different from a couple of fingers, be it Fuma’s or his own.  
  
Finally, he nods slightly and begins to slowly lower himself. Fuma gently strokes his hair when he stops again and the fact that his fingers are trembling makes Kento smile, ever so slightly.  
  
“It doesn’t – doesn’t hurt,” he gasps and then shakes his head when Fuma looks at him doubtfully. “Not much,” he adjusts and the fingers in his hair tighten for a second before they continue their caress. Kento exhales, moves another centimeter down, and smiles again.  
  
“It’s just – a lot to take in.”  
  
He means for it to sound teasing and the pun is fully intended, but Fuma barely cracks a smile, still looking worried. So Kento angles his head differently, trying hard not to move the rest of his body at all and luckily, Fuma gets the message as he leans in to receive his kiss.  
  
They break apart again when Fuma’s hips jerk upwards involuntarily and Kento bites his own lip at the feeling. It’s like a tease of what’s to come and it makes him impatient more than anything. They’re almost there, now.  
  
“Do that again,” he whispers and Fuma all too happily obliges, having held back the entire time.  
  
Kento gasps as the rest of Fuma’s length slides into him; his arms entwined tightly around Fuma’s shoulders as he’s now fully seated in Fuma’s lap, shaking like a leaf. He tries to get used to the feeling, but every time he thinks it’s working, one of them moves just the slightest bit and he can feel it through all of his body and it’s indescribable. As he looks down between their bodies, sees where Fuma’s cock disappears into him, he lets out a shaky breath.  
  
“Fuma,” he gasps, and Fuma’s grip on him automatically tightens, thumbs stroking soft circles into his skin, reassuring him of his presence immediately. “This is going to sound – sound stupid, but,” he feels embarrassed when he notices how amazed he sounds.  
  
“You’re inside of me,” he finally finishes and buries his head in Fuma’s neck as Fuma nods. He feels just a little less silly when Fuma’s next words sound just as astonished as his.  
  
“Yeah. You feel awesome.”  
  
It startles a laugh out of Kento and he playfully bites Fuma’s shoulder. “Why am I having sex with an idiot?” he asks, the teasing tone a little ruined because he’s still breathless.  
  
“What? Who else are you sleeping with?” Fuma asks, mock-indignant and makes Kento giggle again.  
  
“You, you idiot,” he scolds and gives up hiding in favour of kissing Fuma, long and mellow. “There’s no one but you,” he adds, after, and gets rewarded with a lazy smile.  
“Well, of course,” Fuma says with a nod as he looks at Kento in his arms, making Kento feel self-conscious all over again.  
  
  
When it finally becomes too much, and the shaking has long since subsided to an occasional shudder, Kento circles his hips ever so slightly; experimenting as he watches Fuma’s lips part in a moan as he does.  
  
“You know,” Kento says, continuing the circling motion, “there’s kind of no point to this if you don’t move.”  
  
“I was only waiting for you,” Fuma points out and his hips jerk upwards to meet Kento, making them both gasp.  
  
“Good,” Kento pants and isn’t even sure whether he’s replying to Fuma or just stating how he feels.  
  
It takes them a few minutes to find a good rhythm. At first Fuma just thrusts up into him and Kento lets himself bounce in Fuma’s lap, simply relishing the feeling and not doing much else. But after a while, he raises himself back on his knees again, making Fuma still in his motion as he begins to move with him.  
  
Fuma’s eyes fly shut and he groans as he buries his face in Kento’s neck and Kento’s breath hitches at seeing Fuma like this, so undone because of him. One of his hands slides up to cup Fuma’s jaw, making him turn so they he can crash their mouths together. The kiss is messy, growing ever more out of control when Fuma’s hips start moving again so they meet each other thrust for thrust.  
  
The angle changes and Kento has to pull back to breathe, Fuma’s cock hitting his prostrate on every other thrust this way. He feels his thighs starting to protest but when he meets Fuma’s dark eyes he knows neither of them is going to last much longer now, anyway. Fuma dislodges one hand to wrap around Kento’s cock, but Kento hastily shakes his head, making Fuma stop and pull his hand. The slide against Fuma’s sweat-slicked abs is barely more than sweet torture, but it’s enough.  
  
“Fuma.”  
  
He means to say something more, but all that comes out is that breathy whisper and he can feel Fuma’s full body shudder and the fingers tightening on his hips, moving him along as Fuma’s movements grow more urgent.  
  
Even if Kento wanted to, he doubts he could let go of Fuma now. He’s doing barely more than just cling on as Fuma is sliding into him; each shove jerking his whole body with its force and making Kento’s own erection rub quicker against the abs of Fuma’s stomach.  
  
“I’m-”  
  
But that’s as far as he gets when the stimulation suddenly goes from almost there to blissfully perfect and he throws his head back with a scream at the feeling of coming completely undone in Fuma’s arms. His arms tighten even further and he hears Fuma grunt, can dimly feel the fingers on his hips tighten as Fuma continues to drive into him at an almost desperate pace now.  
  
And before he can even fully come down himself, Fuma suddenly goes rigid beneath him, hips stuttering into small, jerking movements as he’s tumbling over the edge. Kento’s eyes are half-lidded and his mouth  is still hanging open slightly as he watches Fuma bite his lip; almost silent at the finish, the exact opposite of Kento. His eyes are pressed closed, his brows furrowed.  
  
As even the jerking motions still down, Fuma’s eyes flutter open, still so very dark as they focus on Kento, but the burning desire that was visible there just moments before has turned into hazy satisfaction now. He smiles at Kento almost lazily and presses forward to steal the barely won back breath from Kento’s lungs.  
  
It’s messy at best, both of them panting and barely able to close their mouths for long enough to make it a real kiss, but neither of them cares. This isn’t about finesse.  
At some point, they ease down to lie on the bed, Kento’s thigh muscles protesting the position once the adrenalin starts to wear off. He thinks he might have dozed off for a few minutes, because he closes his eyes for a second and the next Fuma is halfway across the room, throwing a few handkerchiefs and the tied up condom into the trash.  
  
Kento dimly wonders how he has the energy when all he feels capable of, at most, is move under the blankets and take Fuma with him. Fuma seems to different plans, however, because once he comes back, he starts tugging on the bed’s day cover, nudging Kento’s side so he moves and he can pull it free completely. Kento makes little grunts of frustration at being prodded, but he doesn’t have much of a choice in the matter. Meanwhile, Fuma’s lips crinkle in displeasure as he looks at something on the freed cover in his hands and Kento thinks he hears him mutter something about his mother, but his brain is too sated for him to think much about it. It occurs dimly to Kento that he’s lying on Fuma’s bed completely naked, but somehow, the thought of hiding beneath the blankets seems stupid now. There’s nothing he wants to hide from Fuma anymore, no reason to. The thought makes him smile lazily as he watches his boyfriend buzzing around the room.  
  
Finally, after what feels like much too long, Fuma crawls back on the bed. Kento cranes his neck to keep looking at him as he leans down to kiss Kento again, slowly this time, letting his tongue explore like they have never done this before.  
  
“How about a shower?” Fuma eventually asks and Kento thinks that he really likes this deeper tone of his voice as he reaches up to play with the long strands of Fuma’s hair.  
  
Still, he shakes his head petulantly. ”I don’t want to move.”  
  
Fuma’s eyebrows rise and Kento’s lips transform into a pout as he admits, “I’m not sure I even can, right now.”  
  
To his relief, Fuma doesn’t ask any awkward questions and just nods, thoughtfully. It probably helps that Kento’s said similar things after hours of dance rehearsal, though it was different muscles that were exhausted then.  
  
“Bath? Our tub is huge, we can both fit in there easily.”  
  
Kento laughs. “Are you seriously bragging about the size of your bath tub?”  
  
Fuma frowns at him and Kento has a second to detect and worry about that evil glint in his eyes before he suddenly pinches Kento’s nipple playfully. Kento yelps and swats at him automatically, trying to flee by rolling to the side, but Fuma’s hands have found their way to his sides and are holding him right where he is. His fingers dig into the wrong spot for just a second and a short squeal bursts out of Kento’s mouth before he can stop it.  
  
Fuma looks up at him in surprise, gaze a mixture of mischievousness and curiosity. He digs his fingers in again and in no time at all, has Kento in a fit of giggles as he tries to hit his boyfriend to get him to stop. Of course, it’s even harder to dislodge Fuma now that he has discovered Kento’s ticklish spot. It somehow figures that Fuma would think torturing him when he’s exhausted already is proper after-sex protocol, rather than cuddling.  
  
By the time they finally make it into the hot bathtub, they’re even more breathless and exhausted than before (Kento’s known Fuma to be ticklish around his collarbone for years, but today was the first time he made good use of this knowledge). The hot water feels like heaven though, sore muscles relaxing as Kento leans back onto Fuma’s chest, feeling his heart beat against his skin. Submerged almost up to his chin and their hands clasped together on the edge of the bathtub, he can’t help but think that maybe this is his favourite part of the day. Being completely at ease even as there are no layers left between them, Fuma lazily leaning forward and pressing himself flush against Kento’s back to kiss him like they’ve got all the time in the world.


End file.
